


M for M

by tuliptoes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Measure for Measure fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bastardizing Shakespeare, Don't forget that, F/M, It's a comedy, Measure for measure, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-20 02:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuliptoes/pseuds/tuliptoes
Summary: I'm back with more Shakespeare shenanigans, this time it's Jaime/Brienne in a modern setting with Shakespeare's "Measure for Measure" as a guide.This play is real weird. It's a comedy (in name only) about moral rigidity and how fundamentalism leads to corruption. And it's open ended too. My Shakespeare prof said that is Shakespeare getting fed up with the rules of comedy and pushing back on the form, and it was the last comedy he wrote too.Here's the rough outline: The Duke has left town, and put Angelo in charge. Angelo has arrested Claudio and charged him with fornication because he and his wife have not completed all the technical requirements of marriage and she is now pregnant.Claudio's sister, Isabella, a novice nun, pleads with Angelo to let her brother go, and Angelo tells her that if she'll surrender her virginity to him, he'll let Claudio go.Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

Brienne glanced down at the newspaper, a day old, saw the headline “Bolton replaces Lannister as district attorney” and looked away.

She kept her eyes away from the story for 10 seconds before pulling up the paper and devouring the short article in five minutes.

But as she set the paper down, she knew, it had been a waste of time. 

She could tell herself that she was only reading for professional reasons, and there was some truth to that. She would be facing off with Bolton in court eventually, although, she reminded herself, she’d never faced Lannister.

But the real truth was that the scandal, oh, that scandal was the real reason she looked. It was all around her, in whispers and speculation and the fact that no one, not even Mr. Varys, the courthouse office manager with untold number of sources, knew the truth was fueling the gossip mills even more.

Jaime Lannister, the Lion people called him, had resigned in disgrace as a district attorney. No one knew why, he was just there and then he was gone. 

His last case, a RICO case against Aerys Targaryen, hadn’t gone well, Brienne had heard. He had tracked down an impressive list of witnesses, and the day before trial, his witnesses were all murdered. Even worse, their mutilated bodies were left in a truck parked in front of the courthouse.

Judge Stark had no choice but to dismiss the charges, but he could not hold back his look of disgust at DA Lannister, who had not protected those people well enough.

And then two days later, Targaryen was dead and Lannister had resigned.

Two months later, and the rumours still circled them all: Lannister had Targaryen killed, Lannister had killed him personally, Lannister had killed his own witnesses to lure Targaryen into complacency. 

Brienne wasn’t fooled by them, she knew the truth had to be simpler, but there was none of that going around these days.

She scowled as she looked back at the paper, as the handsome face of Jaime Lannister and the cold eyes of Roose Bolton looked back at her.

The Lion had been a fair DA, Brienne had always heard that. He only sought the highest penalties when it was called for, and he never hesitated to offer deals for lower offenses. He was good at what he did, but he was never underhanded, even saying once that if he couldn’t win fairly, it was no victory worth having.

_ Would Bolton be the same? _

She looked at his eyes, hard and cold, like a northern winter, and she doubted it.

But maybe she’ll be lucky, and she wouldn’t have to find out.

She dumped the remainder of her cold coffee in the sink and got dressed, her time for battle approaching.

***

It was a quiet day in the office.

Tarth, Attorney at Law, was a small firm in King’s Landing, just her and a paralegal, Pod and her assistant, Pia. 

After law school, Brienne had been courted by several large firms, hoping to get in good with her father (and his money) no doubt, but she declined them all.

She didn’t hate them, not really, but she’d always known that for her, the law was supposed to be about helping people who didn’t know they needed help. Her clients were guilty pretty much all of the time, but throwing them in the dungeons for petty thieving was not the answer to their problems. 

And she did help them, as much as she could. She kept them out of jail, and if she couldn’t, she tried to keep the sentences as low as possible. And even after, she kept tabs on them, especially the youngsters, and tried to protect them from themselves as she could.

She’d been in practice for three years, and she was still mostly herself. She kept herself from being jaded by refusing any clients she thought were too dangerous for her protection. Her father’s investment helped her with being able to refuse clients she didn’t want to save.

It was good work, if only a little lonely. 

She was young, 25, a prodigy who graduated early from every school she went to, and that left her with little time to learn how to interact with people. At 14, she’s been the tallest child, boy or girl, in her school, and she kept growing even as she stayed the youngest in all her classes.

The other kids never forgot that, or her looks, and she would like to say that experience made her hard and cold, but it didn’t. She grew a thick skin as fast as she could, but it didn’t help. She would hear their taunts, and she would cry herself to sleep.

That was her life for years, but when she walked into her office, the past melted away as Pia smiled at her and Pod handed her her morning coffee.

“Thank you Pod. Any calls today?”

“No Ms. Tarth, but you have a visitor in your office. Mr. Samwell Tarly?” Pod pointed to the portly man sitting outside her office door.

She had tried and tried to cure the young man of his formality, but it was a battle she was sure to lose. 

She shook her head and resisted the urge to tossle his hair. “I’ll see him now.”

Sam stood as she approached and held out his hand, like he always did, even though they’d known each other since college. 

“Brienne, I need your help,” he told her, fear in his eyes. 

Her eyes softened at his words, and she ushered him to her office. “Do you want some water or coffee? Pod could get you something,” she offered, but he shook his head.

“I don’t have much time before I’m due at the hospital.”

He sat down then, but he kept playing with his fingers and tapping his feet. 

“Alright Sam, tell me what happened.”

“Well,” he looked away from her then. “It’s not for me, it’s my fiance, Gilly Wilding.”

She smiled at him; the boy had been the same age as her in college and so, so shy around everyone except her. The two misfits formed an unlikely alliance, but he helped her with her science papers, and she kept any bullies from messing with him. And Sam was always there if she needed to just hang out.

“She’s pregnant. She was arrested two days ago for fornication. Is that a crime now?”

Brienne’s eyes bulged at his words. 

_ Fornication? _

“Are you sure you heard that right? I mean, yes it’s technically a crime, but that law hasn’t been enforced in a hundred years, at least.”

He pulled out a paper and handed it to her, a copy of the warrant, and there it was, The People of King’s Landing vs. Gilly Wilding, one charge of fornication.

“Does she know you’re here?”

He shook his hand. “She asked me not to tell anyone, but I can’t let her sit there and do nothing. She’s my everything, and you’re the only lawyer I know. Can you help her? I can pay.”

She looked at the paper again. “She’s being arraigned tomorrow, I can meet her there.”

She stood over Sam, and as he looked up at her, she saw the trust in his eyes and her heart broke a little for Gilly.

“I can help her, Sam, I promise I’ll help her.”

As he stood up, she saw him choke back the tears in his eyes. He launched himself at her, just like the old days, and she held him to her. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before letting her go.

***

Brienne looked at herself in the mirror and gave up.

She looked alright, even better than normal, but there was some battles not worth fighting. Her hair was stringy, and it would always be stringy, not matter how much product she used.

Her teeth were crooked, her nose was bent, and no amount of makeup was enough to cover those up.

She sighed as she finished applying her lipstick. 

After needling that bordered on harassment, Brienne had agreed to let her friend Margery set her up on a blind date.

“One drink,” Margery told her. “Have a drink with the man, and if it’s horrible, I’ll never mention it again.”

_ Until next time, Brienne thought. _

But she’d agreed. As she looked herself over, she looked  _ good _ . An oversized men’s shirt, in pale blue, and black leggings showed off all the best parts of her. She couldn’t do anything about the rest, but that was his problem, right?

She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, and left without a look back.

She got to the bar first, of course, but that was her way. She couldn’t be late, so she grabbed a table and texted Margery.

  
  


B: He’s still coming?

M: Yes! Don’t think you were the only one I’ve been harassing about this date

B: Who is he?

M: You’ll know him when you see him

  
  


And she did.

Two minutes later, none other than Jaime Lannister, the walking, breathing scandal, stomped his way into the bar and headed toward her, with a scowl on his handsome face.

Her heart fluttered to see him, and when his eyes, rich and green but soft too, locked on hers, she thought she would forget how to breathe.

“Brienne?” he asked brusquely, not a trace of warmth in his voice.

His beautiful face was rigid, hard around the edges, nothing like the practiced smoothness of his photos. 

_ He can’t even pretend for me _

Brienne felt the familiar stab inside her as she nodded. She took a sip of her drink to give herself something to do with her hands.

“Good idea,” he muttered as he headed for the bar.

  
  


B: I will kill for you this

M: Give him a chance, Bee, he’s always been nice to me and Loras

B: I know where you sleep

M: Do you? ;)

  
  


She put her phone away as he came back, with a whiskey in his hand and that cold expression still on his face.

“How is dear Margery this evening?” he asked, his voice drowning in sarcasm.

“She’s fine,” she told him and he huffed at her words.

“She speaks,” the first hint of softness hitting his eyes. “How you’d get dragged into this?”

_ How indeed? _

“I met her in law school, and I haven’t been able to shake her since.”

Jaime grunted, but smiled a tight smile. “My father is a good friend of her grandmother, I’ve known her since she was born, and yet she feels she can boss me around.”

Brienne laughed at that. “Sounds like her.”

She swished her drink, trying to fill the awkward silence with anything she could, but she heard his phone buzz instead. His face contorted as he looked at the screen, his entire face flushed red as he stood up and dropped his phone in his glass.

The screen fizzled in front of her, going dark before she could see the message that hurt him.

_ Fuck this. _

Brienne reached into her bag, grabbed a 10 dollar bill and left it on the table.

“You clearly don’t want to be here, and frankly, neither do I. Good night.”

“Wait, Brienne-” he called after her, but she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Gilly! And Bolton! 
> 
> And see Brienne hold back from righteous anger.

B: Well that was a waste of a perfectly fine 5 minutes

M: Only 5????

B: Never again Madge. NEVER

M: I’ll talk to him. Keep an open mind???

B: NOOOOOOOOO

Brienne set her phone aside and grabbed the case file Pod have left for her. Gilly Wilding, two speeding tickets, which she’d paid off promptly, no arrests, just nothing. 

She’d been in foster care until 18, then left, went to school on scholarship for nursing and now she works at St. Baelor’s. 

Scrawled in his messy handwriting was a note from Pod: _ Starting showing a month ago, but supervisor says pregnancy not affecting her work. Fine employee overall. _

Brienne frowned at the file. By all accounts, she was a normal, everyday person. No hint of any criminal past times, and she would have been fired immediately if her supervisor suspected she was into anything illegal (St. Baelor’s wasn’t the most prestigious hospital in the city for nothing.)

_ Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe my bad dating luck means that tomorrow we’ll get a friendly judge who will chastise the DA for this ridiculous charge and Gilly can get back to her life. _

Brienne drifted off to an uneasy sleep, her dreams filled with shattered glass and broken screens.

***

“Ms. Wilding?” Brienne asked the young woman in the cell.

Her head shot up, and Brienne could almost feel the fear radiating off her skin. It lived inside this poor woman, and Brienne felt that tug inside her. She knew immediately she was going to help this woman with everything she had.

“Sam asked me to help you, and I’ll be your lawyer if you’re OK with that.”

Gilly’s eyes, soft and brown, like a puppy, started filling with tears. “Call me Gilly," she said softly. "I don’t know what’s going on, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Brienne tried to keep her composure, tried to keep her clients at arms lengths, but here was a woman who needed someone to lean on, and well, Brienne was the only one around. So she sat next to her, wrapped her arm around Gilly’s tiny shoulders and held her while the woman cried.

It only took a minute for Gilly to calm down. “What happens next?” she whispered.

“We’re going to go to court, and we’re going to enter a plea, and I’m going to ask the judge to dismiss the charges. I’m hoping that works, but if it doesn’t, we’ll ask for bail, and then we can get you home.”

Gilly nodded. “I was here all night. I can’t stay here anymore, it’s too much. I need my fiance, I need my home.”

Brienne understood, could hear the words she wasn’t saying. She’d had other clients in foster care; if they didn’t get homes right away, they spent time in a place like this, with a bed and sink and toilet in one room and waited for release. It wasn’t technically a prison, but try telling that to a kid that’s just lost their family. 

Gilly shuddered underneath her arm. “Please, get me out.”

Brienne nodded. “I’ll do everything I can.”

***

Brienne walked in her office and slammed the door behind her. She picked up a book on her desk, some novel Pia had leant her and threw it against the wall. She picked it up, and threw it against the other wall, and the force of the blow ripped off the back cover.

She stood there, listening to the rapid pace of her heartbeat and the shallow breaths and tried to will herself to calm down.

She’d been unlucky, Judge Frey had drawn Gilly’s case. He could be a fair and even handed judge, or he could be cruel and vengeful, and there was no way to know which one you would wind up. Even your side of the court didn’t matter, sometimes he would abuse the prosecutor, and sometimes the defense attorney, and even in some cases, both would feel his wrath.

And as a bonus, this judge hated female lawyers. Never in such a way to get himself in any legal trouble, but Brienne knew. They all knew, the men too.

And for her mannish build, he hated Brienne with an extra passion. She knew before speaking that he would not listen to her arguments to dismiss the case, but she was no coward.

“Your honor, yes, technically fornication is a crime, but this law hasn’t been enforced in nearly 200 years. And if my esteemed colleague wishes to start enforcing this law, why start with my client, a nurse who lives a quiet life in the city? She saves lives on a regular basis and her personal life is not for us to judge.”

Judge Frey’s beady eyes turned to her. “The law is the law, counselor. District Attorney Bolton has every right to enforce it as he sees fit. Plea?”

Brienne nudged Gilly. “Not guilty, your honor,” the girl squeaked.

Frey nodded. 

“The people request the defendant be held without bail, you’re honor. With no family in the area, she is a flight risk,” Bolton said, his voice crisp and flat. Brienne fought back a shiver at his tone.

“Your honor,” Brienne sputtered. “This is egregious, my client is pregnant and a homeowner, she’s not running anywhere. We ask that she be released on her own recognizance.”

“I agree with Ms. Tarth, the defendant is remanded for now.” 

Frey banged his gavel and Gilly jumped at the noise.

“What happens now?” Gilly asked again, this time clutching her belly.

“The bailiff will take you to get your things, and then I’m going to drive you home. Alright?”

Gilly breathed, then followed him out.

That was not what had upset Brienne. It was frustrating that Judge Frey hated her, but she could live with it. It was unlucky for Gilly, but Brienne could work around him, even if he was dogmatic in the law, she could be too.

But Bolton…

“Mr. Bolton?” Brienne said as she approached the man. He turned to her, and he smiled at her as he held out his hand, a smile filled with menace. He looked her up and down, and Brienne could feel him dismissing her as _ unfuckable _, a look she was used to with the men she met.

“Ms. Tarth.” He nodded at her before turning away.

“Mr. Bolton, please, can we discuss this case?” Brienne said, with more politeness than she felt.

_ Keep it in, Brienne, keep all the anger in. _

“What’s there to discuss? Your client is guilty, she will be found guilty, she will serve her time and the city will have justice. Finally.”

She was young, she knew that. She was naive even, although not as much as she was when she opened her office. But even so, his words, sharp and cruel as he spoke about justice cut through her like claws on naked skin.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, more to herself, but he answered her.

“Our city is infested with filth and rot and the only way for all of us to be clean again is to make sure every person in this city knows the cost of their transgressions. They will pay, and we will be cleansed of all sin.”

She looked into his eyes, dark and cold, but they lit up as he talked, and she saw him, truly saw him, the warrior priest, the crusader, killing all who stood in his way for the sin of standing in his way.

He nodded at her again before walking away.

In her office, she picked up the tattered book, in ruins now, and she felt her face grow hot as she realized she owed Pia an apology. And another copy to boot.

She groaned at the thought of walking into a book store and buying that lurid cover. 

_ But what’s right is right. _

She’d driven Gilly home in silence, the young woman clutched her stomach and looked out the window without saying a word. Brienne wanted to comfort her, but even she, as good as she was, had no idea what to do for her.

A knock at the door broke her out of her misery as Pod came in holding a long package and a letter.

“These arrived for you Ms. Tarth,” he whispered. 

She smiled at him. “Brienne Pod, call me Brienne.”

He grinned at her. “Yes Ms. Tarth.” He set the package on her desk and walked out.

She walked over to the box, but the smell hit her first.

_ Roses _

She held her breath as the memories poured over her, to fast for her to shake them off. 

_ Red, laughing at her, his jock buddies too, laughing and pointing as they threw roses at her feet, the endless flowers piling at her feet and she stood frozen. And Hyle too, laughing at her and she felt the tears roll down her cheeks onto the dress she’d bought to please him. _

But she resisted the urge to smash them at her feet, she’s done enough damage today. 

Instead, she grabbed the letter Pod handed her and tore open the envelope with more vehemence than was called for.

She expected something awful, roses never brought her anything good.

Instead, it was a plea from Jaime Lannister.

_ Brienne, _

_ I want to apologize for my behavior last night. Margery may have harassed me into accepting this blind date, as I’m sure she did with you, but I agreed and my behaviour was not what it should have been. _

_ Immediately before I met you, I received some distressing news that should have led me to reschedule our date. _

_ So, would it be possible to pretend I did just that? And meet again for drinks and dinner afterward? _

_ I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking anyway. _

_ Jaime Lannister_

_PS: My phone number is on the card. I have replaced the phone, don’t think you’ll be talking to the void._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date! 
> 
> And Bolton reveals his inner creeper.

B: He wants to meet again...you’re doing?

M: Don’t know what youre talking about.

M: …

M: Yes. I gave him a well deserved verbal lashing and he was sufficiently contrite

B: (eternal sighs)

M: Say yes, and if he’s a dick again, I’ll drop it. Promise

Brienne pulled up his number, cursing Madge and herself for agreeing to do this in the first place. But one more date wouldn’t kill her, and then both and Jaime would be free of Madge’s nagging forever.

B: This is Brienne Tarth

J: So formal my lady. Dost thou accept my proposal for a dinner engagement?

B: *eye roll emoji*

J: lol

B: Tonight work?

J: Tonight? What if I had plans?

B: Do you?

J: …

J: No

J: Tonight then! Same place, at 8?

B: Fine

Brienne showed up in her work clothes this time. She and Pia and Pod had been pouring over law books, looking for any precedent, no matter how slim, anything they could use to try to help Gilly. 

So far, nothing, and with dejected looks all around, Brienne had told them to go home and they’d start fresh tomorrow.

She hadn’t even had time to change, and if she was honest, she didn’t care to. 

_ Done that for you once already. _

Again, she sat and stirred her drink and waited for him. She tried to think about him, and why on Earth Margery had decided they should date. He was too pretty, too famous and too much scandal for Brienne, and she had said all this to Margery, who had scoffed and told her to get used to the idea.

She sighed to herself as he walked in.

This time, he smiled as he saw her, and it even reached his eyes. He went to the bar first, getting the same drink as last time, except this time his phone was already put away.

“Nice to see you again,” Brienne said with a shy smile on her face.

“Again? This is our first meeting, unless…” he paused and looked her right in the eye. “Have you been dreaming about me?”

She laughed, she couldn’t help it or the blush that surely overtook her fair skin. “I have better things to dream about.”

“Oh, now I’m intrigued. You have to share.”

She looked at him, and yes, he was a shameless flirt, but he also did look interested too. 

“I dream of a world filled with ponies and sunshine and fresh water to swim in, where my job is wholly unnecessary,” she looked at him and he cringed at her girly paradise. “And Oberyn Martell. He’s in there too.”

Now he laughed, a giant guffaw that cut through all the noise of the bar, and he clinked glasses with her. “Can’t blame you for that one.”

_ He’s like a different person today. _

Jaime finished his drink then, and he looked at her, his face open and kind. “So, I believe I owe you dinner.”

“And a Lannister always pays his debts?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I will kill Tyrion for that line. I love the little bastard, but still. I’ll kill him.”

Tyrion Lannister, the drunk biographer he had billed himself when he started writing, and drunk or not, he made his subjects live again on the air and in the page, regardless if they had been dead for centuries or were very much alive. 

“You know, he didn’t even ask us if we wanted a family history published? We just saw it come out, and whoosh, there is it, on practically every page, ‘A Lannister always pays his debts.’ I’ve never seen my father so angry, and that includes -”

He stopped then as a dark look came over his face.

“Dinner than?” he looked up at her, the question hanging between them.

“Dinner,” she said, simply and quietly and he couldn’t hide his grin.

“I know the perfect place,” he said as he stood. “Ride with me?”

Some madness must have come over her, lured in my his easy charm and his smile and those _ eyes _, and she said yes.

***

It had been an awkward drive over. Neither of them had wanted to talk then, and Brienne had to hold herself back from stroking the leather in his car, a vintage model that cost more than her apartment.

Fortunately, it was a short drive, and he was right, the restaurant, The Dragon’s Egg, was perfect.

They sat in the corner, in the candlelight, and she imagined this is what first dates must be like all the time. Quiet and romantic, two people sitting in a room deciding to fall in love.

“Are you still practising?” Brienne asked and immediately wished she hadn’t. She saw his grimace and she knew she matched it.

“You don’t have to answer, I was just wondering what you’re doing if you’re not…” She cursed herself. “Seven hells, I’m going to stop talking now.”

He laughed again, the soft easy laugh that could smooth over anything. “It’s alright. I can’t talk about _ that, _ but I can tell you I’ve been relaxing, trying to find a hobby and spending time with my son.”

He let the words out there, and she smiled at him. “I didn’t know you had been married.”

“I wasn’t,” he said with a sad note in his voice. “His mother and I...we were together a long time, and I wanted to, but she didn’t. And that’s the main reason we’re not together anymore.”

She nodded, and then she couldn’t help herself, she laughed. She started crying she was laughing so hard, and the more she laughed the deeper his scowl grew.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she calmed down. “I’m not laughing at you...it’s just...you really don’t know how to do a first date, do you?”

He scowled again, but then he laughed too. “I really don’t.”

“I mean, you’ve brought up your ex, your kid, and mentioned that you want to get married. What’s next, you going to tell me your favorite sexual position and then propose?”

She laughed again, and he did too, and not even when she saw their waiter give them a dirty look was it enough to quiet her.

“I was saving that for our second date,” he said as he wiped away his own tears.

_ Second date? _

“I’ll bring my father and Tyrion and we’ll get married right after. Honeymoon in Dorne, what do you say?”

“Winterfell or no deal.”

“Sold, I’ll make the arrangements tonight.”

They settled down then, and as they ate, Brienne looked him. 

_ Funny, clever, charming, maybe Margery was right after all. _

***

“Tell me about your case,” Jaime said as he sat on her couch, clutching the wine glass in his hand. He looked at the file on her coffee table, and she could tell, his fingers were nearly itching to open it and pore through it.

“I don’t understand it,” Brienne said as she sat next to him. “Gilly is just a nurse, a woman who saves lives and pays her taxes, she even gives to charity when she can afford to, and Bolton is prosecuting her like she’s a serial killer.”

Jaime gave her a look. “Bolton?”

Brienne grimaced. “Yeah, him.”

“What’s the charge? She selling drugs on the side?”

Brienne scowled at him. “No, he’s charging her with fornication. She’s pregnant, but she and her boyfriend aren’t married.”

Jaime’s eyes widened at her words, but he didn’t say anything. He finished his drink first before turning away from her.

“I’ve never met the man. My replacement,” he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice, and Brienne really wished he would tell her what happened, but she knew to stay silent. 

“I’ve heard rumours about him, that he’s a part of the Sparrows. You heard of them?:

She nodded. “Aren’t they a cult?”

Jaime shook his head. “No, not exactly. They worship the seven, but it’s a radical form of worship. Their followers are expected to give up their wealth to feed the poor and to work to free the world of all sin.”

“That sounds like the man I met today.”

“They’re not dangerous, and children aren’t allowed to join, so they’ve stayed off the radar. As far as I know, they’re not considered a threat, just a more hardcode thread of the seven’s followers.”

Brienne shook her head at that. “There’s got to be more to it than just helping the poor and smiting the sinners.”

Jaime nodded. “I suspect the High Sparrow wants power over the King, power to make everyone bend to his will. I mean, that’s what it’s always about, the means are unimportant. I’m more surprised that Bolton is a part of it, but it’s probably the same reason.”

“He’s just about power?”

“No, not like that,” Jaime said as he poured himself some more wine. “Two years ago, his pregnant wife was in an accident, and he had to make a choice of which one to save, and he picked the baby. And she died, and the baby boy did too. Tyrion told me that he shut himself off from the world afterward, and I guess the Sparrows found their way to him, and promised him something to replace the loss inside him.”

She thought about his words, and remembered her father’s death, that panic, the feeling that the entire world was spinning out from under her. She’d gotten drunk and then went back to work, that was how she coped with it. That’s how she got her life back on track.

“He wants control then?”

Jaime nodded. “And maybe that’s a way to beat him. Give him control, maybe a plea, make it seem like his idea if you can.”

Brienne smiled. “Well that’s something. I’m trying to find a way around this law, but Judge Frey is right, is it illegal, but this lawsuit is just a waste of time.”

Jaime nodded, but looked at his phone. “It’s late,” he said with a slight frown. “I’ll have to leave soon.”

Brienne had forgotten the time, she’d forgotten everything in the presence of that smile. 

Except one thing.

“You said something about a second date earlier?”

Jaime laughed. “I did, didn’t I?” But then that frown returned. “What you said earlier, about first dates, you’re right. I don’t really know what I’m doing here, so…” he trailed off as he looked away. 

Brienne braced herself for the blow. It had been fun, so much fun to just be with him. And now he was saying goodbye.

“Can we take it slow?”

She kept her face calm when she wanted to scream with joy. “Slow is good,” she said with a grin.

He smiled back as he stood up. She walked him to the door and held out his hand. “Till next time?”

She took his hand, and they shook on it. "But," she said. "No more roses. Ever."

He smiled and nodded. "No roses." He winked as he walked out. He looked back at her watching him leave and winked again.

  


B: OK, you win. He’s wonderful.

M: *fights battle to not say I told you so*

M: *loses battle*

M: I TOLD YOU SO

B: I’m going to bed now.

M: Alone? ALONE??? Don’t leave me hanging!!!!

  
***  


With a deep breath, Brienne knocked on the door to Bolton’s office. His harsh “Come in” rattled her a bit, but she held back her shiver as she walked through the door.

She was taller than him, and she knew she couldn’t look smaller, but keeping Jaime’s advice in mind, she kept her eyes down, away from his face, trying to make herself seem submissive, even if she could have clobbered this man easily.

“Ms. Tarth.” Bolton said coldly. She hated being here, hated her name, her father’s name passing through his lips, but she held it together.

_ For Gilly _

“Hello Mr. Bolton. I wanted to discuss Ms. Wilding’s case with you.”

He shook his head at her, the gesture both condescending and dismissive. 

“I believe I said all I have to say on that matter.”

Brienne kept her face still and calm. “Please, Mr. Bolton. I’m begging you. What can I do? My client is guilty, and she needs to put this behind her.”

He looked away from her, stood up and walked behind her, closing the door. Brienne felt her danger signal going off, but she tamped down the panic rising in her abdomen.

“And what are you willing to do for her?”

He looked her over this time, and Brienne tried to keep the flush out of her cheeks. His eyes lingered on her chest and her hips, then settled beneath her waist.

“Whatever I can,” she whispered, her voice losing the gravity she’d brought to the room.

He stepped closer to her, inches from her face and she had no choice but to look down at him, into the dark pools of his brown eyes.

“Fuck me, and I’ll drop the charges.”

Her eyes widened and she tried to take a step back from him, but her backside ran into the desk. He didn’t reach for her, he didn’t try to touch her, but she could feel his hands on her skin and she fought the urge to start scratching his touch off her.

“You haven’t done that before, have you?” he asked. “I can always tell.” 

She imagined him licking his lips at the thought of her in his bed, and she was disgusted at the idea he was thinking the same thoughts.

“But, the law,” she sputtered. “It’s against the very law you’re trying to champion.”

He smiled at her, like a predator closing in on his prey. “I am the law. And if I say it’s not illegal, it’s not.”

“And if you say it is?”

“Then it is.”

He stepped toward her again, close enough to touch her and she shuddered. “I’ll tell, you could be disbarred.”

He chuckled as he leaned into her. “Who would believe you?”

_ No one _

She stood up straight then and gently pushed him away from her. She opened his door but he spoke up again.

“Consider my offer Ms. Tarth. Your client's trial starts soon.”

***

“Ms. Tarth?”

Pia stepped into the room, but Brienne didn’t look at her. She couldn’t face her or anyone at the moment. She kept her back to the door, letting the shame of that meeting wash over her.

She’s been small for him, and terrified, and the thought sickened her. She’s thrown up once already, and she could feel her stomach contracting again, but she tried to push the sensation away.

She had to prepare, she needed something, anything to help her.

“Brienne,” Pia whispered.

She turned to Pia then, and saw the girl’s large brown eyes shining. “These arrived for you.”

She held a flower box in her arms and Brienne walked over, preparing for roses again, but she saw purple chrysanthemums instead. And a card.

  


_ Brienne _

_ Thank for the second chance. You won’t regret it. _  
_  
_\- Jaime

  


“Do we have a vase?” Pia asked her. Brienne tried to hold back a smile, but shook her head.

“You know, it’s never come up.” She looked around her office and took the box from Pia. “For now the chair will do.”

Pia smirked. “I can bring one from home tomorrow. They are too pretty to leave rotting.”

Brienne laughed. “Thank you Pia.”

She nodded, but she didn’t turn to leave.

“Pod and I looked and looked, and we couldn’t find what you needed.”

She held her head down, and Brienne was both touched by her concern and concerned by her shame. “Can you help her still?”

_ That's Pia for you, always looking out for others _

“I can try. I’ll always try. Even when it’s hopeless.”

Pia hugged her then, and Brienne knew it wasn’t for Gilly.

_ Don’t thank me, thank yourself. _

But Brienne hugged her back and remembered the girl, all of 16, who’d walked into her office, a pro, no question, but who wanted to know if she could sue a trick for rape.

Brienne invited her to sit, gave her some food and listened to her story. Gregor, her usual client, had paid her, but passed her to a friend of his, who didn’t listen when she said no. Gregor had punched her afterward too, for resisting, but only in her stomach, so no bruises would show.

That girl wouldn’t let Brienne near her, but she’d taken the case. They lost, of course they did, but Gregor had powerful friends and he didn’t like his name being said in court. After the verdict, Pia was arrested for prositution, and after she pleaded guilty and done her time, Brienne fought like a lion to have her record purged from the system.

Judge Tyrell fought her at every step, but she bested him, and Pia’s record was clean as could be.

Brienne had done that, but it was Pia who pulled herself out of that life, something Brienne never let her forget. 

“No hero worship,” she whispered to the woman in her arms.

Pia let her go and wiped away her tears. “No heroes,” she repeated.

Brienne sighed as Pia closed her office door behind her. She would help Gilly, with everything she had.

_ Nearly everything _

  
  
B: What do you know about Bolton? Would he keep his word?

J: …

J: No, I wouldn’t trust him too

J: Meeting didn’t work?

B: He made an offer, but I can’t accept

J: Want to talk?

B: Tonight. Want to come over? Not a public kind of talk

J: Be there at 8

She shuddered at the memory of his offer. 

_ No, I wouldn’t do that. _

***

“He did WHAT?”

Brienne grimaced at his tone, rage was a good look on him, but he still looked like he wanted to beat someone to death.

“He said that?”

Jaime took another drink, as the rage left him and disbelief settled over him. “I suspected the man was cold, possibly corrupt, but that? Never saw that coming…”

She looked at them, wondering for a brief moment if Bolton had been right, that no one would believe her.

He reached for her hand then, squeezed it tight. “I believe it, I believe you, it was just...shocking that he would be so brazen.”

“He wasn’t though,” she said softly. “He told only me, and he’s right, no one would believe me.”

“I do,” Jaime said. “And you’d be surprised…”

He looked away from then, and she saw the dark look on his face. “There were rumours, about him and women. Just whispers, but I believed them, and I wasn’t the only one.”

He gulped. "But he's not wrong either. He was powerful friends who would have every reason to doubt you."

He turned to her then. “You weren’t...you told him to fuck off?”

She blushed. “I didn’t say anything, but no, I’m not…,” she trailed off. “I want to beat him, not let him beat me.”

She laughed at her phrasing, but it was hollow laughter. “What is wrong with him? There are real problems in this city, there are sex crimes that happen everyday, to men and women who could use someone to fight for them, and here he is, attacking this woman who can’t fight back.”

He rubbed her hand. “She doesn’t need to fight back, she has you. You’ll think of something.”

She wanted to scream at his words. He said that, Pia said that, Gilly looked at her with those puppy eyes while thinking that, and she was no closer to a defense.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she said with a shake of her head. “Anything else. How is your son?”

His face lit up at the mention, but then his eyes grew sad again. “Tommen is handling the separation OK, but he holds me too tightly when I leave, but I love every second I get with him. I think he even looks like me.”

He pulled up a picture of the boy smiling while he played in the dirt, and Brienne saw it; the blonde hair, the green eyes, he had all the golden traits his father did. 

Jaime sighed then, and shuddered too.

“He’s not mine though.”

He took a drink as Brienne’s eyes widened. 

“That day, our blind date. I dropped him off and mentioned that I was seeing someone, and I think that’s when she knew I wasn’t coming back.

“I’ve spent most of my life with her, and we’ve taken breaks, but I never strayed from her, even at her worst. And so she texted me his DNA results five minutes before I met you.”

He took another drink, let the wine swish in his glass. Brienne couldn’t breathe, her chest was so tight. She wanted to reach out to him, to hold him and let him cry, but she held back.

_ Slow, he asked for slow, holding is not slow _

“And that’s not the worst. The DNA results were dated; she’d gotten the test done while she was pregnant. She’s known the whole time, and she put my name on his birth certificate and she let me believe I was his father and now she’s trying to keep him from me.”

He poured himself more wine, but she knew he wanted something stronger. She stood up, reached back into her cupboard for a dusty bottle of tequila, a present from Margery for her 21st birthday.

She poured him a glass and what the hell, made one for herself too.

Without a word, she walked back to the couch and handed it to him. He drank like a drowning man gulping air.

“I’m doing it again. Ruining our date with my baggage. I should leave before you never want to see me again.”

She laughed as she sipped her Tequila. “I do have another long day of trying to find a solution for Gilly. Do I need to call you a car?”

He shook his head. “My driver’s downstairs.”

He stood up, a little shaky. She reached for him, and he held on to her arm until they got to the door.

“Thank you,” he said. “For listening.”

She felt her heart stir in her chest. 

_ Does anyone listen to you? _

He touched her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, the warmth lighting up her whole body.

“Thank you.” He petted her check and walked out.

  


B: What have you done to me?

M: Only what was good for you

B: You’ll never let this go, will you

M: Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bolton's line of 'who would believe you' is lifted from the text, the idea if not the words.
> 
> Even back then, women's stories were not seen as truthful as men. >:(


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We go to court.
> 
> I'm making the court stuff up as I go, but how I imagine the Westerosi justice system is as a variation on what we've seen in the show. There's a judge who ultimately decides, and then a lawyer on each side that argues the merits and calls witnesses as needed. And unlike the American justice system, the accused will always be called to testify. The King (Robert in this case) has the authority to overrule any law or verdict as he sees fit, but he mostly stays out of it (that's the job of the appellate system).

Brienne paced her office, staring at her law books, hoping something would come to her about fighting unjust laws or laws expiring or anything that would help Gilly, but there was nothing.

_ Nothing, nothing, nothing _

The law was the law, until the King said it wasn’t. That was a possibility, ask King Robert to issue a decree but there wasn’t time. From what’s she’d heard of him, he probably would be on her side, but that was an avenue not worth seriously exploring.

That left the judge, no good, and the prosecutor, deeply unlikely. 

But she stared at her books, she saw one book poking out, the one book that didn’t belong. 

She reached for it and she groaned at the memory. Professor Lewin’s class, History of Law, was a requirement for all law students, and she would have doubled her tuition payment to have been able to drop it, and she suspected she had not been the only one who felt that way.

Lewin was obsessed with ancient laws and codes that formed the foundation for Westerosi justice, and with almost sadistic glee, made his students memorize pages and pages of rulings that would have no purpose to their careers.

Despite all that, she liked him, a man with a singular passion for his subject, who could infuse the driest of subjects with life.

She turned to the index and saw a section on fornication laws, no doubt the basis for Bolton’s crusade.

There is was, in front of her, sexual relations outside of marriage are forbidden, with punishments left up to the liege lords.

But her heart started racing as she kept reading. Her hands were shaking as she read the paragraph over and over. 

It was right there.

With a silent prayer to the Smith to bless Professor Lewin, she grabbed her phone.

B: This is Brienne. Got a question, and I need you to be 100 percent honest with me. Not lawyer honest, honest honest. Alright?

Gilly Wilding: Alright Ms. Tarth.

B: Were you engaged before you were pregnant.

G: …

G: Yes, we’ve been engaged for two years. 

_ Gotcha _

_ *** _

Brienne stood as Judge Frey walked into the courtroom. He scowled at her, but he was always scowling at something or someone, so Brienne brushed it off.

She stood up straight, and she felt the weight of this case ease off her. She would win, and hopefully show Bolton that crusading for purity, than corrupting the world through that crusade wouldn’t work.

She laughed inside, that was a ridiculous thought, but a woman could dream.

Judge Frey banged his gavel, and the room sat once again.

“District Attorney Bolton?” Frey bellowed to the room and Bolton stood up and motioned Gilly to stand. 

Brienne squeezed her wrist for a second before Gilly stood up and went to stand in the witness box. She clutched her stomach as she faced him, and like Brienne had told her, she didn’t flinch from his stare.

“Ms. Wilding, are you pregnant?” Bolton asked her, almost bored with the question.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Were you married when your child was conceived?” 

“No,” she said, and like Brienne told her, she didn’t look down. She had nothing to be ashamed of, keep your head up at all times, Brienne had told her.

Bolton was surprised at her stance, but he bowed his head to her and went back behind his desk. “The people rest, your honor.”

Frey nodded at him, then turned his eye to Brienne.

She stood up and approached Gilly. She smiled at her, which was sure to infuriate Judge Frey, but Gilly looked so frightened, Brienne knew she needed that smile.

“Ms. Wilding, are you engaged?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

She looked at her hand, and Brienne could see the indent of a space for a ring. “Two years. With the baby, I can’t wear the ring, but he picked it out himself.”

_ That’s just like Sam _

“Do you have any proof you could offer the court to the date of your engagement?”

She nodded, then reached for her phone and pulled up her tumblr account. A post showed video of Sam down on one knee in a restaurant while Gilly cried with joy. The video was time stamped for just over two years ago.

Brienne showed the video to Judge Frey who watched it with a growing irritation on his face.

“Ms. Tarth, what is the point of this line of questioning?” he growled at her.

And here it was.

“Your honor, I ask that you dismiss these charges against my client. Her engagement is a binding promise of marriage, and based on Westerosi laws dating back 400 years, an engaged couple that anticipates their wedding night is for all purposes considered married, with the forfeiting of the dowry as punishment for their crime.”

She wanted to look at Bolton’s face, see his weasel face twisted in rage, but instead she locked eyes with Judge Frey. 

He almost looked impressed.

“You have a law to cite, I assume?” he asked her.

She handed him her text book. “This text is required reading for all Westerosi law students, and as my professor pointed out, these laws are the foundation of our justice system, and as they have not been officially revoked by King Robert, it still stands today.”

Frey looked at the book and a smile nearly hit his face. “I went to school with Harold Lewin. Even then, he was fascinated by the old laws and how many of them were still around in some form.”

He paused then, coughed for a second. “I’ll have my ruling in one hour.”

He stood and walked out. Brienne motioned for Gilly to come back to the table, and Gilly nearly ran out of the witness box.

“You did great,” Brienne whispered to her. “We’ll wait now, but it will be over soon.”

Gilly smiled and rubbed her stomach. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Like clockwork, Judge Frey came back in an hour later, still clutching her old textbook and still holding his scowl.

He sat and banged his gavel with a bit too much force, and for the first time today, Brienne felt a chill go through her skin.

But she brushed the feeling aside as she and Gilly stood and waited for his ruling.

He shook his head and sighed. “We have no evidence that Ms. Wilding’s child is a product of her engagement. And even if that were the case, despite this old law, an engagement is not a marriage. Ms. Wilding, you are pregnant and unmarried, therefore I find you guilty of fornication. You are sentenced to 15 years in the dungeons.”

Brienne had forgotten to breathe. She held her breath while waiting for him to speak, but his words made no sense. 

She looked down at Gilly, and those eyes were already filling with panic and fear. Brienne reached for her hand, to offer her something, anything to keep her grounded, but Gilly’s hands were wrenched behind her back as the guard handcuffed her.

She shrieked then, a cry escaping her lips as she mumbled through her tears. “I didn’t do anything wrong” over and over again.

“Your honor,” Brienne yelled at him, actually raised her voice to him. “If you can disregard one ancient law, you could disregard any of them. Why not disregard the rules on fornication? Why are you punishing a nurse to such a degree?”

In 15 years, her baby will be in high school, she’ll have missed her whole youth, she’ll never know her own mother. Brienne’s heart ached for the mother that never knew her.

Not even thinking anymore, she picked up her notebook and threw it toward the judge, missing him on purpose and instantly wishing she hadn’t. 

“How could you?” she screamed at him, letting the rage flow through her.

Frey looked at her then, and she didn’t see anger or contempt in his face. She saw only sorrow.

“Bailiff, escort Ms. Tarth to a cell, she’s to remain there until I decide otherwise.”

She felt a strong hand grip her arm, but her eyes didn’t leave the judge’s face. He scowled again at her, at something else, before turning and leaving her to her fate. 

As she was escorted out, Bolton walked next to her. 

“Next time, consider my offer more carefully,” he whispered as he walked away to tell the world about his latest victory.

***

Brienne sat in her cell and stewed. She tried to work out where she had gone wrong, but there was no answer that made sense to her.

_ The law was the law _

That’s what kept running through her head. She had followed it, she found the answer she needed, it was all there.

_ I failed her _

She’d lost before, she lost more than she won, but this was the first time when even a loss couldn’t be turned into a win.

Gilly should not have faced these charges or this judge or any of this and because she had, she’s lost her child’s youth.

Brienne didn’t cry, but she felt something in her die, the last piece of her youth fell away from her in that cell, and she let it happen.

As she sat there, she didn’t notice her visitor watching her. He tapped on the bars and it wasn’t enough to bring her around to look at him.

“Brienne,” he whispered and her head shot up to see Jaime standing there.

“I convinced Frey to let you out,” he said calmly as a guard unlocked her cell. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

***

Brienne sat on her couch and stared at the wall as Jaime got her a drink.

She was still staring as handed her the glass, setting it down in her lap without taking a sip.

He reached out and touched her arm, holding on to her like she might float away.

“You can appeal,” he said softly. 

She looked at him then. “How did you know what happened?”

He smiled sadly at her. “The bailiff, he’s a friend, he told me what happened. Did you actually throw your notepad at Frey?”

“I missed on purpose.”

He chuckled, but without any real lightness in his voice. “He didn’t want to let you out, but I used my father’s name to convince him. Even in his retirement, Tywin Lannister still holds some sway in King’s Landing.”

“Thank you,” she said as she took a sip, her throat burning at the harsh taste of the vodka.

She coughed a bit. “Where’d you get this?”

“I brought it with me. Thought you could use something stronger than tequila.”

She went to get some water, it was too strong for her, the vodka made her throat burn, but at least it was something else to feel rather than failure. She felt the tears spring into her eyes again, but she took another drink of vodka to push them away.

“I mean it though,” he said again. “You’ve got a good chance on appeal.”

“In a year. Gilly will be in the dungeon for a year before I can even begin, and those appellate judges are just like Frey.”

She couldn’t keep the tears back anymore, the injustice done to this woman, her friend’s fiancee, the look on her face as her sentence was read, her failure, it all came crashing down on her shoulders. 

She slumped over the counter, letting the tears fall to the floor, not caring that the man she wanted to kiss could see her. She nearly forgot he was there until she felt his hand on her back. 

She stood up and he wrapped his arms around her, his head nestled into her shoulder blades, and she let him hold her.

She wiped her eyes then, before tugging his arms from her waist and facing him. She knew she looked a mess, blotchy cheeks and eyes red from crying, but when she looked at him, all she saw was a man who didn’t want to look away.

_ Could it be? _

She looked into his green eyes and he smiled at her, a smile that lit up her entire kitchen, a smile that could light the whole city.

She touched his face, mimicking his movements from their last meeting, and like her, he leaned into her hand. 

He held her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her like a man starving. She pressed her chest to him, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him as he eagerly kissed her.

He had wanted to go slow, he had said that, but now his hands were reaching under her shirt, caressing the ticklish skin on her back, and she was doing the same, and he was so warm and he wanted her and she didn’t want to stop for anything.

But apparently he did.

He wrenched himself free mid-kiss and stared at her. 

Brienne felt a coldness drape over her, and she couldn’t stop the memories this time.

_ Prom, junior year, and Hyle had pestered her and pestered her to go with him, and finally she said yes to shut him up, and he’d looked so happy, she let herself be happy.  _

_ Her father took her dress shopping, and she found a light blue gown that set off her eyes, and he’d agreed to take her to a salon the morning of, and the stylist, through some miracle had made her look passable. _

_ And she waited for him, and he was late, but still, he had a goofy grin on his face when he saw her.  _

_ He gave her a flower, a yellow rose he pinned to her dress and he held her hand as they walked into together. _

_ It had been magical, the one time in her life when she got to be one of the girls. The girls there were even nice to her, helping her keep her hair pinned and showing her how to reapply her makeup. _

_ When the dance ended, Hyle took her to his hotel room. She smiled at him and he kissed her like he wanted more. She had too. _

_ And then he laughed. _

_ And he kept laughing as he opened the hotel room door and a group of boys entered the room, all laughing at her, all throwing roses at her feet, calling her Brienne the Beauty and high-fiving Hyle for winning her. _

_ She had pushed her way out of the crowd, but not before ruining Hyle’s face with her hand. _

And now Jaime was looking at her, just like Hyle had.

With pity.

“I shouldn’t have,” he stammered. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

She let that coldness into her veins. “Good to know. Now get out.”

She didn’t watch him leave. She went to bed and tried to escape into her dreams, where roses and laughter chased her through hotel hallways as she chased Jaime, who stayed out of reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the all the kudos and comments, they make they day. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some bad stuff is coming.
> 
> You've been warned.

Brienne called in sick the next day, told both Pia and Pod they could have the day off if they wanted. 

She stayed at home and watched TV and stared at her phone and she deleted every single text that came in from Jaime.

She drank her tequila and ordered take out and kept herself safe and numb.

The next day she woke up with a raging hangover and knew that work wasn’t happening today either.

She threw up her breakfast, which made the nausea go away, but she knew she needed to eat something, but the idea of food just made the nausea return.

She heard a knock at the door, and there was Pia, with a shy smile on her face, holding a picnic basket.

“If you’re sick, here’s some soup and crackers. Don’t worry about the office, Pod and I can take care of things today too.”

Pia left her then, and Brienne sat on her couch and let the guilt wash over now. She was wallowing, letting all the bad thoughts bring her down, and her young partners were shouldering her burdens for her in the meantime.

_ They are way too young for those _

She looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced at the dark circles under her eyes. But she climbed into her shower, ate a little of the soup Pia had brought her and got dressed. 

_ You’re allowed one day to wallow. _

_ Now we fight. _

***

Gilly sat in front of her, her eyes vacant still. The orange jumpsuit made her skin look so pale, but all things considered, she didn’t look terrible.

_ At least she’s sleeping _

“We’ll appeal of course. And I can try to see if I can make a direct plea to the king, he might be willing to hear your story. He’s not an unkind man, just distant.”

GIlly nodded without saying anything, just rubbed her belly over and over.

“Has Sam been to see you?”

She nodded. “He’s come twice in two days. He says he’ll come everyday if I still want him to.”

Brienne smiled at her, at her friend’s devotion. 

“He says he’ll bring the baby too; on Saturdays, I’ll be able to hold her.”

Her tears fell then, silent streaks of liquid falling across her face. Brienne wished she could touch her, hug her and tell her everything will be alright, but the glass barrier between them prevented that.

“I’m going to lie down,” Gilly said robotically. “Thank you for coming.”

She stood and Brienne called out to her again. “I’m not giving up Gilly. Don’t you either.”

Gilly didn’t respond, but the look she gave Brienne chilled her very blood.

_ She’s already gone. _

Brienne knew there was nothing else to do today, but she couldn’t sit still. She’s called the prison and pleaded with the warden to keep an eye on Gilly, and she said said they would try, but there were no guarantees.

She wanted to strangle them, to scream at them, but she knew better, she knew there was nothing she could accomplish that way.

  


B: Hey. Come over tonight? Need a favor

M: OK.

  


Margery arrived late, but she came, with a frown on her face and alcohol in her bag.

Brienne grimaced at the smell, but that was just the hangover talking. Margery drank and waited for her to talk, and Brienne hated herself for what she had to do.

“Is there a way you can set up a meeting for me with King Robert?”

Margery glared at her, but didn’t say anything for a solid minute. 

“Before I answer, tell me why.”

Brienne was crossing a friendship line here, but she remembered that look in Gilly’s eyes, the defeat already embedded in her soft brown eyes, and she didn’t hesitate again.

She outlined the whole story for her friend, even the ugly parts, even Jaime, and Margery’s hard look faded.

“I have to help her, and I can’t leave her there for a year while I do nothing.”

Margery reached for her hand and squeezed. “I was all prepared to hear something selfish from you, because that’s what this moment has always brought me. One time, I’d been friends with this woman for a year, and she asked me to let her meet Robert so she could fuck him while the queen watched.”

Brienne could not keep the disgust off her face, but Margery just laughed. “I was actually tempted to do it, just to see Queen Lyanna’s face when she banished the fool from the city.”

Margery took a sip of her wine. “But I should have known, you’d never ask for something unless it was to help someone else.”

“I know you hate this stuff Margery, and I wouldn’t ask but...she shouldn’t be in there in the first place, and that place will kill her.”

Brienne choked back her tears, but Margery squeezed her hand again. 

“I’ll ask Renly. He’s on Robert’s council, and my brother-in-law owes me many favors.”

She stood up and hugged her friend. “We’ll get her out.”

Brienne smiled as she left. It was a start.

She was so elated at the thought that she didn’t look at the name before answering her phone.

“Brienne?”

_ Jaime _

She hung up on him and crawled into bed, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

***

She heard her phone buzz, and she knew, she felt the dread clench her chest, shutting off her breath.

  


Sam: Gilly’s dead.

S: Thank you for trying to help her.

S: I’m shutting off my phone now.

  


Brienne sat there, too numb to feel anything.

_ But I just saw her _

It was a ridiculous thought, but it’s the one thing her brain could focus on. She had been alive, sad and broken, but alive, and now she wasn’t.

_ Bolton _

She saw his cold eyes looking at her, asking for her body in exchange for Gilly’s freedom.

_ Could I saved her? _

Was her virginity worth more than a woman’s life, Gilly's life, her baby's life? 

She tried to brush it away, it made no difference now, she was dead and Bolton will keep doing this to other women.

_ Bolton _

Her fists clenched at the thought of his name and his voice in her head made her see red. 

_ That I can do. _

She got up, got dressed, barely paying attention to what she was wearing, but what did one wear on a mission to beat someone to death.

She heard the knock as she brushed her hair. Brush in hand she opened the door, and he was there, as if she’d conjured him from her own brain.

“Ms. Tarth,” he said with a nod. “I’ve come to tell you your client -”

“She’s dead Bolton,” Brienne said coldly. “Because of you, she’s dead.”

She gripped her brush so hard her knuckles were white. Her muscles ached, her brain kept screaming at her to hit him, to keep kicking him until he couldn’t move anymore.

He smiled at her, like a predator smiles at cornered prey. “You could have saved her.”

He nodded again and walked away without a look back.

She stood there, frozen in place as the rage seeped out of her. She had wanted to beat him, to make him suffer and instead she let him walk away, unharmed, free to harm as many people as he could find.

She took one step out of her door, ready to run after him, when a voice stopped her.

“Don’t.”

Jaime was standing in her hallway, lovely and golden as ever, but with dark circles under his eyes.

She waited for that surge of hurt to overwhelm her, that hurt she’d been nursing for days, but it didn’t come.

Instead, she stepped up to him and let him wrap his arms around her and hold her as she cried.

***

He’d put her back to bed, but she hadn’t slept.

She’d listened to him in her apartment. He took her phone, and she heard him tell Pia she wouldn’t be coming in.

He sat on her couch and made phone calls that were too muffled to hear. She laid there and listened to him in her space.

She got up then, blanket wrapped around her, and walked out to her living room, watching him in her kitchen as he made her breakfast.

“I’m not hungry,” she told him as he buttered her toast.

“Well, you should eat anyway. You’ll need some fuel.” 

He hadn’t made her much, just toast and apple slices, with a dollop of peanut butter for dipping.

She would have cried at his thoughtfulness, but she felt hollow inside, there was nothing left in her to feel.

She took the plate from him and dutifully ate her breakfast, tasting nothing but appreciating the warmth of the toast and the crunch of the apple.

“I have to leave,” Jaime told her. “But I’ll be back tonight, around 6.”

She stared at him, his words not making any sense to her, but she nodded.

“And please, just stay here. Don’t do anything you can’t take back, ok?”

His eyes were pleading with her, and she had no choice but to nod. 

He squeezed her shoulder before leaving, and she felt his absence then. Like the sun had gone down for the last time before winter, and you wouldn’t get to see it for six months, that’s what she felt now.

***

At 5, she got out of bed and took a shower, put on clean clothes, even tidied up the mess she’d made after 3 days of being holed up in her apartment.

At 6, she checked her phone, but there was no word from him. She made herself dinner and waited.

At 8, she checked her phone for the 100th time, and there was nothing.

At 10, she crawled into bed and turned out her light. She couldn’t even been angry at him, what did any of this matter to him.

  


B: Are you OK?

J: …

J: …

J: …

  


The knocks, more like bangs on the door, snapped her out of a disturbing dream that she instantly forgot as she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled to the door.

Jaime was slumped again her door, half heartedly banging on it while he leaned against it. 

_ Asshole _

She opened the door too quickly and he fell into her living room, reeking of alcohol and laughing like a madman.

“I fell over,” he told. “I’m a Lannister, and I fell over.”

He cackled at his absurd comment, and Brienne felt her anger settle into irritation. His hair, his clothes, every part of him was tousled and tattered, like he'd been beaten on his way here. His shirt arms were torn, and she suspected he’d have quite a few new bruises in the morning.

_ You fell a lot, didn't you? _

She helped him to stand up. He swayed next to her, and she led him to a chair, still trying to shake off her sleep.

“I’m a Lannister you know,” he told her. “We always stay up straight.” She let go of him in the chair and he would have fallen off if she hadn’t caught him.

“You’d never know it right now,” she said through clenched teeth. “What did you drink?”

“What didn’t I drink,” he said with a tight smile. “I drank and drank and then the bartender told me no more, and I made my driver buy me more at a store, and he left and took my keys and I just sat in my car and drank until I forgot.”

This close to him, the stench of vomit was unavoidable. She wanted to shove him back outside and make his driver clean him up, but she knew it wouldn’t work. He’d sit outside and bang on her door until all her neighbors were awake, and then she’d have an even bigger scene to manage.

“You need a shower,” she told him as she helped him up. He didn’t argue, but she knew it would have to wait.

_ The drunk idiot might drown in there _

“I threw up in my car, and I walked here.”

She rolled her eyes at him then, but she understood. She was in no mood to take him home, and he was still too drunk to make it home alone.

“My couch is free,” she said as she got him a blanket.

She grabbed him a pair of sweatpants and had to help him out of his clothes. She wanted to admire the view, his golden body was right there, but she was far too irritated to give him any praise tonight.

_ The worst day of my professional life, and I end it by caring for a sloppy drunk. _

She tucked him in and she thought he drifted off, but as she stood up, he grabbed her hand. “She took him from me,” he whispered. “She took him.”

He let her go then, and she started down at him. She brushed his hair from his forehead and let him retreat to his own dreamworld.

***

In the morning, she woke up to the sound of his snoring.

It was late, after 9, but it was Saturday, so there was no need to hurry about her day.

She got up, still hearing his snoring from the living room, and scowled at him while she prepared some aspirin and a glass of water for him.

She put them on her coffee table and poked him.

He batted her hand away, but didn’t stop snoring. She poked him again, in two places this time, and he flinched at her touches, but still, he stayed asleep.

She sighed, and finally, she pinched his nostrils shut and he woke up, bolting upright, coughing and holding his head.

He looked around and winced at the light coming in from the window. Brienne pointed to the pills and water on the table, and he smiled gratefully at her. 

She rolled her eyes at him, but with a smirk. “The shower’s free, but your clothes are filthy.”

He tried to stand, but he sat back down, clutching his side. “How did I get here, in a cattle car?”

“You said you threw up in your car and walked, although I think ‘walk’ is an overstatement,” she said with a slight laugh.

He laughed too, but had to stop at the stab of pain in his chest. “I guess I should thank you. And apologize. Did I thank you?”

She shook her head as she looked at the handsome disaster on her couch. “It didn’t come up. Either one.”

Like a switch turned on, his smile faded and he gripped her for support. “I was supposed to be here, for you.”

She wanted to smile at him, and tell him it was OK, but she didn’t want to lie to him. 

“I was pretty pissed. But it was nice to feel something, even that.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Thanks for this,” he said, gesturing to the couch.”I didn’t forget...I just…”

She felt his hand shake first, then she saw his shoulders quake. She reached for the blanket and wrapped it around him, letting it hug him.

“You said, she took him.” Brienne hated this, hated prying, but she knew too, like with her clients, he needed to talk about it, needed some release.

He nodded. “I know Tommen isn’t mine, I’ve known for almost a month, and I could live with it. He’s a sweet, kind little boy, and he looks like me, and who cares about DNA, he can be the best of us without that. I didn’t care...I still wanted to be his dad.”

He swallowed then, shuddering again. “Yesterday, we met with lawyers to discuss custody. I was going to ask her for joint custody, and if she said no, I was prepared to sue her for full custody, but I didn’t want to. I told her that that was the worst case scenario.”

Brienne held her breath, no idea what was coming next. What could have led him to such a state could only have been a disaster.

“She sat there, with a coy smile, and listened to my pleas and nodded along with the lawyers, until…”

He took a deep breath, and he looked like he never wanted to let his out, he wanted to keep it inside him forever and just float away from the truth.

“She pulled out his birth certificate, and my name wasn’t there.”

Brienne eyes widened and she pulled him to her, embracing him like she had held Gilly, like she had held Pia, all these damaged souls that she had come in contact with held him too as he cried into her shoulder.

He didn’t have to say it. He wasn’t Tommen’s father, or his stepfather, or legally bound to him at all.

She (_had he ever said her name_) had severed their link effectively, cutting out what he couldn’t afford to lose. She held him as he whispered “I’m sorry” over and over and she knew then it wasn’t meant for her. 

After a few minutes, he sat up, his face swollen and red as he looked at her. 

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

She nodded and found him one.

“I hate to ask for more from you, but can you take me home? I don’t know where my car is, and I’m pretty sure Bronn took my keys and my phone with him when he left.”

She had some sharp words in mind for this Bronn, but that was another matter for another day. She got dressed herself, and handed him the bag of his soiled clothes. His nose wrinkled at them.

“I’m just going to throw them out,” he said as he recoiled from the bag.

“Yes,” Brienne said as she pushed it into his hand. “**_You_** will.”

He smiled, and she smiled back.

_ We can pretend things are OK for a minute at a time until they are OK. _

She pushed that thought from her head as she pulled onto the road.

“I’m not too far from here, and when I find him and fire him, maybe Bronn will tell me where I left my car.”

She laughed, but she saw the amusement in his eyes. Bronn’s job was safe for now, she knew it, and she bet he did too.

She laughed at that, and he did too, and they were still laughing as the SUV plowed into them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the story, Isabella accepts Angelo's offer, but with a twist; the Duke, disguised as a friar, tells her that Angelo has a fiance, Marianna, that he has refused to marry since her dowry is now at the bottom of the ocean. Isabella and the Duke tell Angelo that she'll sleep with him, as long as it's dark and they don't speak. Angelo agrees to her conditions, and Marianna takes Isabella's place (poor fool is deeply in love with Angelo, and if they sleep together while engaged, they'll be considered married, much like Isabella's brother Claudio).
> 
> Of course, after the deed is done, Angelo is terrified of what will happen to him if anyone finds out he deflowered a virgin, so he orders Claudio's execution anyway. 
> 
> Jerk.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery and revelations

B: HELP

M: Whats wrong

B: Do you have numbers for Jaime’s family? There was an accident...he’s hurt

M: OMG

M: I’ll call Tyrion, he’ll get the word out. Need me to come?

B: I’m OK, just some scratches

M: BRIENNE ARE YOU HURT???

B: No, please call his family

  


Brienne tried to stop herself from pacing in the waiting room. She played with her hands, she let the endless scroll of words pass by as she looked at Twitter, but it didn’t help.

She kept hearing that scream, Jaime’s scream, as the paramedics wrenched the door open to get him out of her crushed car. He’d taken the brunt of the blow and the door had folded around his arm, turning it into a mangled mess.

And she was left to wait.

The paramedics had looked her over, even when she wanted to tell them to leave her alone and see to Jaime. She had some scratches on her face, but who cared about those, his arm was a mess, he was a mess, crying and calling out for her. 

And she was fine and that golden man had been mangled in a hit and run, and there was nothing to do but wait.

She recognized Tyrion Lannister when he walked in, but everyone knew him, the most famous dwarf in all of Westeros. His podcast, The Drunk Biographer, had made him an internet sensation almost overnight, and from there it had been nothing but bestselling books and morning show guest spots and appearances in tabloids with various starlets.

And he looked at her and took the seat next to him.

“Brienne?” he asked her and she nodded.

“Jaime has told me about you, but he neglected to mention your last name.”

“Tarth. Brienne Tarth,” she said as she held out her hand. This was so awkward, but she figured better awkward than fawning.

He took her hand and smiled at her. “The Sapphire Isle Tarths?”

She nodded. “We haven’t lived there for a long time, but yes, that’s us. Or me.”

Tyrion nodded. “I met your father once, when I was researching some older families in the Stormlands. He was kind enough to let me borrow his library during a particularly wet afternoon.”

Brienne laughed, and he joined. “I’ve done that too.”

She felt that old stab in her chest, the longing for her father, but it wasn’t painful this time. 

Tyrion’s face darkened. “How is Jaime?” he whispered.

Brienne closed her eyes, trying to remember what the surgeon had told her. “He’s in surgery. He broke his arm in the crash, and they are trying to save it.”

Tyrion’s face blanched. “I need to make some calls.”

She watched him, and she saw a man in his element, ordering people around through his phone, using his name and his fame to bend this callers to his will. Within an hour, the Lannister personal surgeon was at the hospital, accepting his privileges and scrubbing in on Jaime’s operation. 

She heard Tyrion’s voice grow deeper and colder as he made his last call, his voice rising too high to be ignored.

“Fine, if you want him to die without you here, he’s probably better off.”

He hung up his phone in a fury and skulked back to the chair next to her. 

He exhaled sharply, then put his smiling face back on. “I’m sorry about that, but my family can bring out the worst in me.”

She nodded, and they got back to waiting, but it wasn’t too bad to wait together. Tyrion had brought a deck of cards, and she beat him at gin rummy and he beat her at poker, and they were trying to decide on a third game when the surgeon approached them.

Brienne stood up too fast, her heart racing, pounding against her rib cage, trying to prepare herself for the worst before the doctor smiled at her and Tyrion.

“He’s going to be OK,” she said. “His arm is pinned in place and he won’t be able to move it right away, but with therapy he will heal.”

Brienne started shaking, and the doctor, she didn’t even know her name, reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “He’s in recovery right now, but in an hour, you can see him. I’ll warn you, he’ll be pretty out of it, but he might appreciate the visit.”

Brienne sat down then and let the relief flood her senses. She started crying, and she hunched over, trying to cover her face with her hands. 

She let the tears fall into her lap.

_ I can stay like this until my face clears up, no problem, I don’t need a good back at all. _

“I didn’t know,” Tyrion whispered. “How you feel about him. Does Jaime?”

Brienne looked at him as he smirked at her. She scowled back. “I don’t even know how I feel about that oversharing, inconsiderate, exceptionally kind asshole.”

Tyrion laughed, he roared even, more the Lion than his brother. “You certainly have him pegged.” 

He stood up then and held out his hand. “Come on, we can go for a walk and find his room at least.”

She followed him, and he led her a section of private rooms, and they stood outside and waited for the nurses and doctors to leave him before they went it.

He was awake, and his arm was splinted in the air, and he smiled at her, a lazy, droopy grin that showed her just how hopped up he was.

“Brienne,” he nearly shouted across the room. “Brienne, I’m broken!”

He laughed at that, and she tried to keep a stony expression on her face, but instead, she let the anxiety out of her and laughed with him.

“Quite broken,” she told him.

She walked up to him, and grabbed his left hand. “You’ll get better though.”

“Yes, I’ll get better, and they’ll break me again and again, but I won’t stop,” he cackled. “I won’t.” He drifted off then, leaving them behind.

She dropped his hand and looked at Tyrion, who just shrugged. “Powerful meds I guess.”

Tyrion looked up at his big brother, and she saw his concern break through his smiling facade. He held onto Jaime’s gown, as close as he could reach. “We’ll take care of it,” he whispered. “We’ll take care of you.”

With tears in his eyes, he looked at Brienne and nodded before he left.

She heard footsteps down the hall, but didn’t think of it, as she held his hand, stroking his skin, trying to bring him back to the real world.

“Who are you?”

A woman stood in the doorway, tall and blonde and gorgeous, with green eyes just like Jaime’s.

She looked down, at Brienne’s hand holding Jaime’s, and Brienne saw the sneer forming before the woman could even speak.

“Cersei, my sweet sister, I’d know that tone anywhere,” Tyrion called out as he came up behind them, with a security guard next to him.

Tyrion pushed his way past Cersei and stood next to Jaime’s bed, glaring at the woman. 

Cersei looked down at him, and the sneer came back. “Who is this,” she hesitated, and Brienne could practically see the contempt floating above her head. “Woman?” she finally said, with a smile that was all poison.

“She’s a friend of Jaime’s, they were together in the crash,” Tyrion said. He turned back to his brother, the worry back on his face.

“You did this?” Cersei yelled, making Brienne jump as the woman approached her. “You mangled my brother and then you dare to touch him afterward.”

Cersei pulled her hand back, raising her whole arm to slap Brienne, but Brienne grabbed her hand before she could make contact. 

Brienne squeezed her wrist, squeezed until Cersei cried out and tried to wrench her hand back. Brienne let go then, and as Cersei massaged her wrist, Brienne held back her smirk.

But she knew too, she couldn’t stay with this creature here. “Tyrion, please let me know how he’s doing.”

“He will do no such thing -” Cersei said, with an icy fury in her voice, but Tyrion cut her off.

“With pleasure Brienne,” he said with a nod and a twinkle in his eye.

Brienne left the room then, but she heard Tyrion’s voice and lingered out of sight.

“Did you bring Tommen?” he asked.

“Of course not, he doesn’t need to see this, he’s just a boy.”

She gripped the wall then, holding her stomach, feeling all the aches and pains of the last few days crash into her.

_ His sister. Tommen’s mother is his sister. _

She called herself a taxi then, and went home and dreamed of nothing.

***

Brienne woke up and one thought hit her: his sister.

_ Sister _

She shuddered at the thought, and went to reach for her phone, but stopped herself. Margery couldn’t have known, she wouldn’t have set them up if she had.

And as horrible as it was, this secret could damage him in many ways, and Brienne knew she couldn’t do that to him.

She shuddered again, but she heard her phone buzz grabbed it without thinking.

  


T: He’s awake, for real. He’s asking for you

  


She could still be asleep, she knew that, it was early still. And she wanted to walk away from this broken man and his fucked up family for good, but she remembered his screams yesterday, the way he had clutched her hand as the paramedics pulled him out of the car.

  


B: I’ll be there in a bit

T: Thank you. He needs to see you, I can’t convince him you’re alright

  


Brienne arrived at his door, and stood outside his door, not knowing what to do. She could hear the brothers in there, laughing and lighthearted, and she didn’t want to interrupt. 

She didn’t want to be here at all, but she had come, and there was no point in running away now. She nodded to the guard outside and walked in, and both Lannister men instantly looked at her and smiled.

She blushed at the attention, but her face fell as she saw Tyrion jump off his bed. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He winked at her as he closed the door behind him, and she had to fight to run after him and drag him back into the room.

She looked at Jaime then, his arm still splinted at his side, and he wasn’t smiling now. 

_ I am no coward _

She walked up to him and took Tyrion’s place on his bed, and when he reached for her hand, she squeezed it for him.

“You are OK?” he asked her, and she saw the relief hit his face as she nodded.

“My car is toast, but I just had some cuts and bruises, nothing major.”

His face tensed at her words. “I’ll get you a car, don’t worry about that.”

She shook her head, but he squeezed her hand again. “It’s the least I can do.”

He sighed then, and looked at his arm. “They told me I’ll be fine, eventually, but it’s going to be months before my arm is back to normal.”

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I imagine it does, but the drugs are really good.”

He laughed and flinched at the pressure in his ribs.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said as he paused. “The police were here earlier. They don’t think it was an accident.”

Her eyes widened, but she knew he wanted to keep talking. 

“They think it was the leftovers from Aerys Targaryen’s family who targeted me.”

He gulped then, and she thought he shivered, but she couldn’t be sure. “They can’t prove it, but the footage of the crash fits their theory, whatever that means.”

He squeezed her hand again. “So, again, I’m sorry. For everything.”

_ Not an accident. Someone tried to kill him. And they could have killed both of us, she’d heard the paramedics talking at the crash. Either car going a bit faster, and we could have both died. _

“No apologies,” she said in a hard voice. “Not for this.”

He turned his head at her, but he didn’t say anything. But he nodded, he understood that she wasn’t angry at him.

They sat in silence for a minute, but Brienne knew it was time.

“I met Cersei yesterday,” she said, casually, coolly, trying to keep her voice even. “She’s Tommen’s mother?”

_ Tell me I’m wrong, let me be wrong, just this once. _

He paled, but he didn’t look away as he nodded.

“And she’s your sister?”

_ Please _

“No. Not quite.”

Brienne exhaled at his words, and she wanted to scream and yell at his words, but he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate.

“She’s my cousin’s daughter. Her parents died when she was 15, and my father adopted her.”

His eyes teared up at the memory, but he wasn’t holding back now.

“She was so sad, and she looked just like me. I’d lost my mother years ago, and I saw myself in her pain, and I wanted to help her through it. When we were 16, she kissed me, and it felt like coming home and I clung to her all night.

“My father found us together, and he told her that if it ever happened again, he would disown her and kick her out of the family. She was terrified of him, but she couldn’t let me go either, so we were a secret.”

“And Tommen?” Brienne asked

“She had boyfriends, to keep up appearances she said, and one of them is Tommen’s father.” He laughed then, a bitter, aching sound escaping from his mouth. “I don’t even know which one.”

He wiped his eyes then, shook his head as if to shake off those memories too.

“But I want you to do something for me.”

He gave her a piece of paper. “Tomorrow morning, read the paper and don’t go into work. Go to this address, room 117, and talk to the man there.” The address was legible, just barely. 

_ He must have written this with his left hand. _

She’d forgotten. Work, Gilly, Bolton, she’d shoved it all aside for his pain. She was grateful, but the pain of that week came crashing into her again, worse than the first time.

“It will be OK,” he said as she squeezed her hand. “Do this for me. Please.”

She nodded. What was one more crazy request from this broken man?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More revelations!

Brienne raised her hand to knock, but she held it back.

She’d read the paper that morning, like Jaime had asked, and she wondered how he’d known.

_ Bolton, Frey arrested _

_ Targets of corruption probe held on 34 counts of bribery, larceny, extortion _

The main pic was of Det. Robb Stark leading Roose Bolton down the courthouse steps, in handcuffs, and Brienne had tried not to smile at the image, but she couldn’t hold back. Her heart ached for Gilly and Sam still, but this was what he deserved.

_ They’re paying for it now Gilly _

The article didn’t have a lot of details of their crimes (_ alleged crimes Brienne reminded herself) _ but there were anonymous sources saying the men and their cohorts had been corrupt for years, everyone knew it, but here was the proof.

_ Finally _

Was that where Jaime fit in, a source in the background, guiding the police or the reporters to the right rocks to look under? Was that why he lost his job?

She raised her hand to knock, and after a deep breath, she pounded on the door, letting her nerves get the better of her. 

He answered the door with a smile on his face at first, but then his eyes bulged at the sight of her.

“Brienne,” Sam whispered. “What are you doing here?”

_ What am I doing here? _

She couldn’t speak, trying to get her brain to understand why Jaime had sent her here, when she heard a voice from the backroom.

“Sam, the baby’s kicking! Come here and feel her!”

Gilly came out of the backroom then, a giant grin on her face that didn’t leave as she saw Brienne. Instead, the young woman walked up to her and pulled her into their room and hugged her.

“I’m so sorry Ms. Tarth, he told me it was the only way to get me out of the Dungeon, I had to pretend to be dead, and that I couldn’t tell anyone but Sam.”

Gilly squeezed her middle, and Brienne automatically squeezed back but her mind was somewhere else, to a hospital room and a broken man telling her it would be alright.

A man who held her after getting the news, how had he known, why had he been there right away, why had she never thought of this before?

“You’re alright then?” she asked softly, her voice breaking with the effort. “The baby too?”

Gilly nodded.

“I had to spend one horrible night in that place, but after you saw me, he came and got me out. We’ve been here since then.”

_ His hands itched to open the file on her table, but instead he asked her about it, and she gave him all the details he needed. He kissed her, then backed off, all part of taking things slow. So as not to soil her any further. _

_ Or himself. _

“But I think we can leave soon, in a few days at most. And he’s promised that Sam and I can get married and he won’t be transferred, as compensation for my ordeal. Can you believe it? Two nights of terror, and I get everything I ever wanted.”

She was crying, and Brienne squeezed her again, and then Sam joined them, and they all cried for a minute before breaking apart.

Brienne wiped the tears off her cheeks, but she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. 

_ Gilly was alive, alive and she and her baby will thrive and Bolton will rot. _

“I’ll leave you to it,” Brienne said then. “I’m so sorry, but I’m so glad for you.”

Sam hugged her once more. “Thank you Brienne. This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

_ Is that true? Or would he have just found another patsy? _

“Gilly,” she said before opening the door. “Who was he, the man that helped you?”

Her smile brightened. “Why, Jaime Lannister. He said he knew you.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

She stepped outside, leaving the couple to their bliss, and pulled out her phone.

B: I met him. And her.

J: OK?

She thought about him, in his hospital bed, texting that to her with one hand, stretching his left fingers in ways he never thought to. He’d written the address for her too, in sloppy writing that wouldn’t pass a kindergarten handwriting class. She didn’t like to think of his suffering, but there was only one response.

B: Fuck you

There was more she wanted to say to him, or scream at him, for playing with her life and her clients as if they were merely chess pieces, but that would do for now.

***

Margery sat on Brienne’s couch and held out her hand for the wine glass Brienne offered.

They drank in silence, at first, but Brienne broke the silence first.

“No more blind dates. Ever.”

Margery laughed and Brienne did too, but it didn’t cover up the stab of pain in her chest at the thought of him. 

Margery saw it to, and she reached for Brienne’s hand and squeezed. “I didn’t know, Brienne, I thought…” she trailed off, looking away.

Brienne knew her better than to let that slide.

“Thought what?”

Margery sighed then. “It wasn’t technically a blind date. When I mentioned that I knew you, that we were friends, he asked me to set you up with him.”

“What?”

Margery nodded. “He said he’s seen you, and he wanted to know you better,” she said with a grimace. “And I told him that a blind date would be better, because you wouldn’t trust him if he asked you outright.”

There was a quiver in her chin as she said that, and Brienne knew it cost her friend a lot to tell her the truth.

And it was the truth, Brienne would never have said yes if he had asked her directly.

“When was that?” Brienne whispered.

“That’s the funny thing,” Margery said, with a gleam in her eye. “It was months ago.”

_ Before Gilly. Before Sam ever walked into her office. _

_ Before everything… _

“I’m not saying give him another chance, because you’ve already done that once,” Margery told her, with that maddening motherly tone she could adopt at will. “But maybe, maybe, take this chance to see that you’re not doomed to be alone.”

Margery finished her wine then, and turned to the TV.

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Bake-Off, definitely,” Brienne replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the play, Angelo writes the jail and asks the guards to send him Claudio's head. The Duke, still in disguise, finds a pirate there who just died, and since he kind of looks like Claudio and hey, don't we all kind of look the same in death, sends that head to Angelo, and the world thinks Claudio has died.
> 
> So funny Shakespeare. Total laugh riot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end! All is revealed.

**Four months later**

She hadn’t planned on watching his interview. She had purposely not mentioned it to anyone, not Margery or Pia or Pod, nobody. She’d also told her officemates that she would be available tonight if something came up; this new client’s case, a property damage claim, was proving trickier than she had thought. 

She even tried to tell herself that when she turned on her TV, she’d watch for 5 minutes then switch over to something else more interesting.

But even she could only fool herself for so long.

After Bolton’s arrest, Judge Frey had confessed to being part of the scheme to take over Aerys Targaryen’s holdings, to seize his forces and his power, to use that to make King’s Landing ‘cleaner,’ to use the thugs to purge the city of sinners.

He’d told everything he knew, and his confession led to more arrests, including one of his sons, and he kept talking and talking so he could avoid a prison term. Bolton was convicted, as were his fellow conspirators, and Frey was disrobed but free.

_ Good riddance _

She’d heard rumours he was planning a book, detailing his time in this conspiracy, but she was hoping it would never happen. 

And then Jaime...he’d been a part of this from the beginning, bugging his own office to trap Bolton, living in disgrace and scandal to appear out of the system that was trying to smother them all. He’d given up so much for the chance to cut out the corruption on his office, but he’d hadn’t thought about the cost to those that weren’t him.

_ Gilly. _

She’d had her baby, a little girl they named Faye, and they’d been married when she was born. As a wedding present, Jaime had paid for their honeymoon.

She shook her head. He felt so guilty, and they forgave him readily enough.

_ But I can’t. _

She saw him on screen then, the shining Lion, that casual smile, no longer a smirk.

“Jaime Lannister, the man of the hour. Tell us, how did you come to suspect Roose Bolton of corruption?” Ellaria Sand asked him in her charming tones, but Brienne knew that was only a facade. The viper would come out soon enough.

He laughed a little, a soft chuckle to himself. “Well, let’s cut to it. I had made a case against Aerys Targaryen, had multiple witnesses ready to testify with evidence in hand, and they…”

He grimaces, all trace of laughter gone from his eyes. 

“They died?” Ellaried nudged him and Jaime nodded.

“All of them, in one bloody night. I couldn’t prove it, and I still can’t, but I suspected the leaker had to come from my office, because we were the only ones who knew where all of them were.”

“And that led you to Bolton.”

“Eventually. I can’t get into all the details, but I was recruited to step down, to take the blame for this tragedy, and to open the opportunity for malfeasance. And Bolton stepped through it.”

Ellaria nodded then.

“Who recruited you?” her eyes widened then, and Jaime chuckled, shaking his head.

“Sorry Ms. Sand, but that’s not for the public to hear. Let’s just say the ones who did were almost gleeful at my downfall, feigned or not.”

Brienne laughed then, and put her hand over her mouth, as if someone was watching her.

“Are you back at the district attorney’s office now?”

“Soon,” he said as he held up his arm. “I can’t write in this cast, but when it comes off and after my physical therapy, I’ll be ready to return.”

She nodded then. “That accident-”

“It wasn’t an accident,” his voice dropped then, darker and colder than Brienne had ever heard it.

“It wasn’t?”

“It was a message, from some of Targaryen’s lieutenants. The most popular rumour against me is that I had that madman killed, so they tried to return the favor.”

Ellaria actually looked shocked this time, nothing fake on her face. “You know this? Not just a guess?

He nodded. “The police found them, and the ringleader, he’s known as the Goat, confessed.”

“You weren’t alone in the crash, were you?”

Brienne sucked in a breath as he grimaced again, like he was in pain, like his very soul was aching.

“No,” he said softly. “I was with a friend, and they totaled her car, and they could have killed her.”

His voice was so low it was almost inaudible. He looked straight at Ellaria then, bored his bright green eyes into hers. 

“That’s what I really want to say here. She could have been hurt, she could have died, and that’s what I didn’t think about when I started this quest. And I wanted to apologize for that. It was the right thing to do, but...people were hurt, some died. Those witnesses, Bolton’s victims, my friend...that wasn’t right.”

He stood up and bowed to Ellaria. “Thank you,” he said as he walked off the set.

As the interview cut to commercial, Brienne sat there, stunned.

She reached for her phone before she could stop herself.

But she set it down again.

***

Brienne walked into her office and Pia stood up and smiled at her.

“You have a delivery,” she said, with a knowing grin on her face. “It’s in your office.”

Brienne looked at Pod then, and he blushed and turned away from her, not meeting her eyes.

Pia opened her office door for her and ushered her into the room, before closing the door behind her.

She shook her head as Jaime Lannister stood in front of her desk, holding a single lily and somehow both smirking and pleading with her.

_ It’s the eyes, they always tell the truth. _

“Don’t punish them too harshly,” he said, winking at her. “They didn’t want to help at first, but I made a persuasive case.”

“I bet you did,” Brienne replied. “Did your pitch involve smiling at my assistant?”

“It might have.”

She gestured to a chair and she took the one across from it, sitting away from her desk, not letting the thing divide them.

He dropped his smile then. “Did you watch my interview last night?”

“I did.”

He looked away from her then. “I had planned on telling you about Gilly, that night, but I didn’t expect Cersei…”

He shuddered a bit. "She's agreed to let me see Tommen, spend time with him, as long as I swear to never leave King's Landing with him. It's more than I could have hoped for, but Tommen wouldn't stop crying when she told him I couldn't see him anymore."

He smiled sadly at her, and she grimaced at the memory of his drunken state.

He reached for her hand and she didn’t pull it back. “I wouldn’t have left you to think that Gilly was dead for long, but I needed to confirm when the arrests were happening. I couldn’t risk that info getting out, you understand?”

She squeezed his hand, she did understand. It didn’t quell the anger inside her, but the sincerity in his eyes was doing the job.

“I argued for bringing you in, for letting you know before Gilly was convincted, but there were concerns about you.”

She grabbed her hand back from. “You think I would tell him? That I would have fought for those monsters?”

He shook his head and reached for her hand again. “No, not like that. We didn’t know if you could lie, or play dumb at the least. And we ultimately decided not to risk it.”

She nodded at his truthful words. She could be passionate and furious, or docile and quiet, but she couldn’t lie, she couldn’t hide the truth from those determined to see it, and she knew it.

“It was the right call,” she said softly

“I’m sorry. I did fight for it, but I don’t think they wouldn’t have thought you capable of keeping the secret.”

“Who are they?”

He hesitated for a second, but only a second. “Judge Stark. His wife Catelyn, she’s chief of detectives, and their son, Robb. My boss, Arthur Dayne. Some others too, but I don’t know if you’d know their names.”

Her eyes widened at those. “Was Judge Stark’s animosity toward you just an act then?”

He laughed then. “No, that man hates me, just completely. His wife too. His son doesn’t, but he doesn’t like me either. But they needed someone inside, and apparently I was the best choice.”

“When you quit…” she let the question linger, but he picked up her thread.

“I was officially accused of tampering with evidence. But Dayne offered to let me resign, since they couldn’t prove it, and that was the opening for Bolton.”

“It’s bogus?” she whispered, not sure she wanted the answer.

His nostrils flared, but his voice stayed even. “Yes,” he said curtly. “I won’t lie, I thought about it, but no, I would never.”

“And Gilly?” she asked. “Why her?”

He pulled his hand back, and she wanted to reclaim it, but he loosened his tie instead. “It was a message, to Petyr Baelish. He runs the brothels and whores, most of them, and Bolton was warning him that if he didn’t play ball, Bolton would attack Baelish’s business on every front.”

He took a breath then. “It worked too. The day of her conviction, Baelish paid Bolton $500,000 dragons as a protection fee. And he started the process of shutting down one of his brothels.”

That’s where Pia had worked, and Baelish had sold her again and again until the last one hurt her so much she had the courage to walk away. And got a jail sentence for her trouble.

Brienne shuddered. “Baelish is still free, free to run those women as he sees fit?” 

“For now,” he said. “That’s the next fight.”

He stood up and handed her the lily. “I didn’t want to use you, but I know I did.” He swallowed but didn’t break his eye contact with her. “But that doesn’t change how I feel.”

She stood up then, and he had to look up at her as she spoke. “Margery told me. You knew me. Before our date.”

He nodded. “I saw you in court,” he said. “With Pia.” He whispered the last line, so even listening ears couldn’t hear him.

“I’d tried to stop that case, but I was overruled. In court though, you were ferocious, fighting for a nobody, just some girl with no money and no family, and you gave yourself fully to helping her.”

He reached for her and kissed her left hand. “I told myself that was a woman worth knowing.” 

He grabbed her right hand awkwardly with his casted hand and kissed that one too. “Worth loving even,” he whispered.

She blushed at his words, but she didn’t look away.

Jaime let go of her hands and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Do you think you’d like to try again?” he asked softly. He stood on his tiptoes, at eye level, on equal footing.

He smiled at her.

And she smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The play ends as the Duke unmasks himself. The Duke forces Angelo to marry Marianna (in what is sure to be a happy union after she tricked him into sleeping with him and he had to be forced to marry her). 
> 
> He also reveals to Isabella (finally) that her brother is alive, and he's allowed to go back to his wife. There's also another wedding where the Duke forces a man (who made the unwise mistake to insult the Duke behind his back) to marry a prostitute he has impregnated.
> 
> Then, the Duke proposes to Isabella and she doesn't say anything. Play over.
> 
> We had an interesting discussion in my college class about the ending, with the professor asking us if we thought she accepted his proposal. One of my fellow students, I don't remember her name, just seemed disgusted with the Duke, and said something like why would she ever marry him. I didn't agree at the time, but I think I've come around. But the Duke is not Jaime, and thankfully for us, Jaime is not the Duke. 
> 
> ***  
I named Gilly's daughter after my cat. Faye's a little scamp, but she doesn't judge me, just like Gilly.
> 
> ***  
I hope you enjoyed my little fic, and thank you again for all the comments and kudos! I'm albatross117 on tumblr, if you want to follow another Braime obsessive.


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